Watching Paint Die
by eleen
Summary: “You are a trained Federal agent, you carry a gun all day and you are telling me you can not manage to defeat a couple of civilians in a simple shooting game?” Ziva burns excess ninja rage in an entirely constructive way: for Tony’s shallow benefit. Tiva.
1. Do I Have to Paint you a House?

Spoilers: None really? I mention a scene from Deliverance. This takes place pre-Aliyah, too

A/N: Okay, here's the setup, the next chapter will be much longer. This is pretty much my personal break from all the Tiva angst. Well, except for the end of Code of Conduct. That was awesome. Anyway, on with the fic…

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**Do I Have to Paint you a House? (1/3)**

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Tony leaned against the side of one of the outbuildings situated on the grounds and breathed in the fresh air of the outdoors. He could feel the sun seeping through the faded jeans and long-sleeve shirt he had donned that morning. He closed his eyes, seeming to focus only on the feel of the spring breeze in his hair and the sounds around him.

At least that's what it looked like to passersby, the truth was Tony's mind was focused intently on a certain brunette assassin. Would she show? Would she blow him off? She looked less than thrilled at finding out the description of the game she'd inadvertedly signed on for. Which surprised Tony because she was an assassin after all, shouldn't a day shooting at moving targets be appealing to her? Furthermore, when she squeezed the trigger there was no chance of serious injury or death arising. This was a good thing.

In fact, this was a perfectly healthily exercise for her. He remembered when they'd gone to a shooting range a few weeks ago to interview a suspect, his partner had been distracted by the young marines training with Berettas when she and he were suppose to be interviewing a suspect. Ziva had exclaimed, excitedly, that she hadn't been to the range in days.

_Days?_ He had thought. Did she _have_ to do this once every week? Was this part of Ziva's weekly routine? Pick up dry cleaning? Check. Vacuum carpets? Check. Empty a few clips and surplus Mossad-ninja rage into cardboard humanoid shapes? Check.

But no matter, her attitude would make today all the more successful for him. He had almost given up hope on the whole plan of ensnaring her help when the perfect offertunity fell right into his lap the day before. It all started when a stakeout he and Ziva were on went awry…

"_How about you take a turn watching for our target?"_

_Tony tried unsuccessfully to pass his partner the pair of binoculars he was holding. Ziva made no movement to retrieve them._

_She scoffed, "Target?" _

"_Petty Officer second class Leonard Kinney has been running a small drug ring on the USS Ingraham, that's part of the US Navy, by the way." _

_Ziva rolled her eyes and turned back to looking out the windshield with an almost lazy attitude. She now seemed to be directing all her attention to the crew showily painting their way down the dock, touching up the short polls that ran along the edged and the thick metal chains that connected them. Don't worry my ninja, he thought to himself, if your bored enough I can provide some action for you this weekend… _

_Instead of voicing his offer, Tony continued on, "Which is _u_s, so it's kind of our responsibility…"_

"_Please," she replied, "running a drug ring? He is a tiny fish. Our time could be spent on much more important things." _

_Ziva had made no secret through out the stakeout that she thought the whole operation was pointless. And Tony had to agree they did stick out like a sore thumb in the Charger, how many people sat around in cars in shipyards? Navy cops, that's who._

"_Small fish," he corrected her. "Who looks like he's out for a swim." He brought the binoculars up to his eyes. "Oh, I think that's him." He looked down to check the picture from the B.O.L.O. in his lap. "Oh, yeah, that's our guy." _

_Their target had a large duffel bag strapped over his shoulder and was making his way across the dock in front of them. He looked back and forth, scanning the area._

_A young sailor in uniform approached Petty Officer Kinney, they moved to crouch beside a large crate. Tony snapped a few pictures of the exchange and muttered, "too easy."_

"_Can we move now?" Ziva demanded. _

"_Yeah, let's bring him in." _

_The cruised forward towards the two men. Their target looked up directly at the car and froze. His companion took off. After a moment, so did Kinney._

_They accelerated and the car shot off after their prey, choosing too follow Kinney instead of his customer. He dodged between two crates and they had to swerve to avoid a collision. _

"_Get him!"_

"_I'm trying!" _

_They car was thrown into reverse and screeched as it was forced into a hard right towards where Kinney had ran. He looked back in panic and threw the duffel aside, when he turned forward he discovered a barrel in front of him. He jumped over it and veered towards the edge of the dock. Tony and Ziva's car smashed into the barrel and it was flung off to the side. _

_Kinney was now in the vicinity of the painters who yelled and screamed at the precession. He kept advancing and ran right into their mists, knocking one or two over in the process. He ran right between a truck and a stack of supplies, Tony and Ziva followed but their car was too big to squeeze through the space their prey had fled and they crashed into the table of paint buckets and supplies. The open cans flew up into the sky and then dropped back to earth, spilling their contents in their travels. The cans still sealed assaulted the Dodge Charger like cannonballs, the front of the car took the brunt of the attack but some made it to strike the windshield, Tony and Ziva ducked down on instinct. _

_Some of the cans were shot forward by the impact and one struck Kinney in the back sending him down with a one-way ticket to the ground. _

_Tony and Ziva emerged carefully from the car and towards their suspect, guns drawn._

"_Petty Officer Kinney!" Tony yelled at the immobile man on the ground. "Show me your hands!"_

_The man did not respond and remained still. The two agents exchanged looks. Still holding onto his gun, Tony reached down with one hand to check for a pulse. _

"_He's alive," Tony announced. He holstered his gun and pulled out his handcuffs, using them to attach Kinney to a nearby pole. "And in custody." Tony looked back and for the first time and took in the sight of their car. The_ _Dodge Charger_'s _front was mostly covered by gray paint in verying opacities. The windshield was splattered and cracked and the front of the car was partly crushed, on the left side the place where a headlight was supposed to be was hollowed out. "You're calling Gibbs."_

"Tony?"

The ninja of his thoughts broke his revere by appearing at his side; he jumped.

"Ziva!"

"I am here," she declared simply. Ziva stood before him like a solider awaiting instruction, ever the dutiful Mossad agent.

Tony collected himself and causally returned to leaning, this time supporting himself by his left arm. "Cool," he said, then cleared his throat.

"Where are your friends?" Ziva looked around, taking off her sunglasses and hooking one of the arms into the pocket of her jeans.

"They'll be here…" His voice was drowned out by the roar of an engine. A red truck appeared on the dirt road that led out of the trees and bowled into the makeshift parking lot beside which Tony and Ziva stood. Then engine died and two men jumped out. Tony finished, "…right now."

"Speak of Satan," Ziva said under her breath as the two men approached. Tony ran to meet them, Ziva followed. He forgot to correct her.

"Hey-Hey, my boys!" Tony greeted each man with a one armed hug, which they returned. Ziva hung back and observed them exchanging greetings.

"Oh, and this is Ziva! I talked her into being my partner for today," he exclaimed, throwing his arm around her. It wasn't exactly a lie…

"_This is just great!" Ziva kicked the front of the Charger. Tony filched, Ziva did not seem to feel any pain. _

"_It's not so bad, Gibbs will only be…"_

_"Absolutely livid."_

"_Yep, pretty much. You're screwed."_

_Ziva moaned in frustration and delivered another kick to the car._

"_Unless…"_

"_Unless what?"_

_Ziva looked up at her partner to find a smile plastered all over his face. It made her not hopeful, but uneasy. _

"_Unless," Tony began, "I was to say that I was the one driving the car..."_

"_And why would you do that?" She asked warily. _

"_Because you'd be doing something for me this weekend."_

"_What kind of something?"_

"_Oh, just joining me in a little activity I had planed for this weekend. Don't worry, I promise you'll get to keep your clothes on." _

_He laughed; she narrowed her eyes. _

"_I'm serious, no funny business. Scout's honor." He looked over her shoulder. "And you better make up your little mind, ninja, Gibb's is here, and he's not looking too pleased." _

_Ziva's eyes narrowed, and after a few seconds she uttered the single word that would seal their fate: _

"_Deal."_

"And this here's Matty and Weasel."

Tony half excepted her to punch him the ribs at the sudden contact caused by him suddenly his putting his arm around her, or at least glare him into submission, instead she smiled and offered her hand to the two men. She smoothly said, "It is so nice to finally meet some of Tony's friends. He's told me so much about your little weekend games."

As Ziva shook both of his friends' hands, Tony took the chance to study Ziva as she was now. She was dressed in jeans and a plain fitted T-shirt. He hair had some of it's natural curl in it and was pulled back into a ponytail. Her expression was welcoming with a relaxed, effortless smile and her brown eyes held none of their normal intensity or the rage that he usually found directed at him. She looked totally non-threatening. Tony found it weirded him out.

"Well look at us here wasting daylight!" Matty exclaimed suddenly and halted Tony's train of thought. Let's get our gear and hit the course! We've got course number 3 booked for 2 o'clock."

"See ya in ten!" Weasel saluted and the two men jogged back to their truck to get at their equipment.

Tony used the arm he had enclosed Ziva in to turn her around and lead them down along the outside of the outbuilding. They turned the corner and onto a makeshift trail that had been beaten into the fresh grass. Tony and Ziva could now make out a symphony of faint popping sounds erupting in rapid successions off in the distance. And being that they were safely out of sight, Ziva shrugged off Tony's arm.

"Well," Tony drawled as he looped his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, "aren't you just a little delight?" He had half-expected Ziva to exert at least one glare of ninja fury, but instead she had been perfectly polite.

"Your friends seem nice," she replied simply.

"Lulling them into a false sense of security?" Tony accused. "I know this game."

Her lips curled up at the edges. "I should hope so," she said as she watched a team of players walk by them, "as I do not."

She seemed confident now, and Tony was glad. He needed her in a good mood and ready to deliver some well-crafted kick ass. If Mossad wasn't using her skills, he could sure as hell utilize them now. Although she wasn't so put together when Gibbs had demanded an explanation for the damages…

_Tony looked over to see that Ziva's brown eyes bulged as Gibbs addressed her, she seemed at a loss for words or maybe she sensed silence might be a better option. She looked at her partner. So did Gibbs. Tony's mouth started to move, but no words came out. His face, he knew, had assumed the terrified look he usually wore whenever Gibbs' voice dropped that low and it, as usual, had given him away. Ziva's leg twitched unconsciously as if itching to kick him in the shins to shake the words out of him. _

_Gibbs' eyes, somehow, narrow farther and they both started spilling their guts. Once they had finished, Tony felt the Bossman's X-ray stare looking his up and down. _

"_That's pretty good," Gibbs said, though there was no approval in his voice. "Pretty stupid, he added. "And you left out one thing."_

"_What's that, Boss?" Tony asked._

"_Who was driving." _

_Ziva looked at Tony. Tony grimaced. _

"_That would me." He raised a hand above his hand. _

"_I already guessed, DiNozzo," He looked at the two agents and smirked for a second before adding, "I want that report of my desk before you leave and don't you think for a second that's the end of it!" _

_Gibbs turned and stormed over to have a talk with their suspect, who was sitting up leaning against his pole. They shared a look and Tony could swear Ziva heaved a sigh of relief now that Gibbs' back was turned. Careful Zee-vah, he thought, Boss's got bat hearing. She seemed to think they'd made it though the worst of it and resigned herself to accepting the fact she would just have to suffer through whatever sub-par humiliation Tony could conjure for her. _

_Tony wasn't relieved yet, he knew the real action would come tomorrow. _

_---_

A/N: Reviews are more than welcome. :) I haven't written much NCIS fic, I hope their coming off even a little in character. And it gets better, this is all just the set-up.


	2. Closed as two Coats of Paint

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I do, however, own the opinion that in a dimly lit room Damon Worth with long hair totallypasses for a buff Jacob Black. Anyone else? No? Well, then.

A/N: Okay, here we go. Be nice. Go in positive. Deep breaths. And thank you StromySnape for the Beta and filling this with semicolons which I had previously decided were too complicated and therefore did not exist.

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**Closed as two Coats of Paint (2/3) **

**---**

Once Tony and Ziva had rented their gear they hunted down a nearby, reasonably secluded, area of woods to suit up. They dumped their gear in a pile on the forest floor and started to pick through it. Tony deftly started strapping kneepads over his jeans, flexing his legs to make sure they were positioned right. Ziva wasn't doing so bad herself, except she was complaining.

"Do we really need this much protection?" She said while strapping on elbow pads. She was positive she had gone through far more trying activities with fare less protection. The life of a spy did not always allow time for elbow pads.

"Just put it all on, I'll be wearing the same thing."

Ziva was not convinced as she stared at the pile. It would certainly suit her to be as annoying as possible but she was serious (or a serious as she could be in this situation) and did not appreciate Tony's condescending tone. Did he think she afraid that the addition of knee and elbow pads would make her look fat or something? When they were at the shop Tony had rattled of a request for two of what seemed like everything they could possibly have to rent. It all seemed a little much.

"Come on, what will Gibbs do to me if I bring you back on Monday covered in bruises?"

"Fine," she conceded. Tony had done this many times and she had not. She figured she should take his word for it and she did trust her partner, after all. And if this sort of activity really did result in bruises, she would like to walk away with as few as possible.

They slipped black splash pants and jackets over their clothing and padding and fastened belts around their waist that would hold their extra ammo and air cylinders. Ziva felt like she weighed 20 pounds heavier with all the gear, but additional weight wouldn't be a hindrance to her agility; she had trained with more.

She then picked up one of the guns Tony had carefully carried over in his load.

"Here," Tony held out his hand and she passed the gun to him, "let me set that up for you."

He assembled the gun for her, hooking in the air system and filling it up with some of the ammo. When he'd finished, he handed the gun back to her. She felt the weight in her hand, familiarizing herself with the new weapon's proportions.

"This is a strange kind of gun, I'm not so sure how this will work out," she said with a frown, referring to the match that would take place shortly.

"What, worried?" Tony mocked, "This was one weapon Daddy never taught you how to use, huh?"

"This is not a weapon, this is a toy. It shoots little green balls!" She shoved the offending object in his face. He held up his hands in defense.

Glaring, and without waiting for instruction, Ziva aimed the gun at a large tree about 20 yards away and fired. She hit her target and the tree now bore a large green splodge. She aimed again and hit the same mark. She then turned towards her partner and cocked her head to the side. Easy enough.

"Yes!" Tony whooped, throwing a fist in the air. "I knew you'd be a natural, not like that's much of a leap given the fact that you're an assassin. It's going to feel so good to finally beat these guys!"

Wait.

Ziva straightened and approached Tony. "What do you mean _finally_?"

"Well, let's just say Matty and Weasel are kind of intense players, whereas me and the guys I've been able to get as teammates are more…casual players."

"So you mean to say you have never won? Not once?"

"Ahh…" Tony couldn't seem to formulate a response.

"McGee explained this game to me, he said this was a shooting game." She gestured with the hand holding her gun. "You are a trained Federal agent, you carry a gun all day and you are telling me you can not manage to defeat a couple of civilians in a simple shooting game?"

Ziva glared at him. She could not believe that Tony was apparently inadequate at this game. She'd seen him in action, surely he could scramble together enough of the skill he displayed at work into this childish entertainment of his. She thought she had understood the logistics of the game she was about to participate in well enough.

_Ziva sat in the bullpen unable to focus on her report for the day. She looked up at Tony who was typing away contently, even humming a tune. It was driving her crazy, they had spent the whole day together (most of the time with Gibbs absent) and he had yet to explain or even mention their "activity" for the weekend. _

_Channeling her frustration she crumbled up a piece of scarp paper and lobbed it at the object of her wrath. _

_Tony didn't seem offended when it struck him. He barely flinched, in fact. _

"_Yes, dear?" He looked up at her bearing his trademark DiNozzo grin. _

"_It is almost time to leave and I would like to know where, exactly, I am expected tomorrow?" _

"_Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot." _

_She sincerely doubted that. _

_Tony stood up from his desk, throwing her paper ball up in the air and catching it casually, and began to walk around his desk. _

"_Your mission, should you choose to accept it…which you already have…" He now stood over her desk, "is to be my partner for paintball this weekend."_

"_Paint…ball?" she parroted, unfamiliar with the term. _

"_Yep, Brad flaked out on me. We're meeting Matty and Weasel at the course this Saturday." He looked her up and down and added, "Wear something comfortable." _

_All she could manage was, "Weasel?"_

"_Long story. You don't want to know." He waved her hands as if to banish her question from the air. "And they were the unofficial Ohio State paintball champs, way before the NCPA was even thought of, so you better bring you A game, Ninja."_

"_Wait…I am confused," the sudden onslaught of babble led Ziva to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. She then stood up and rounded her desk to join him in the middle to the bullpen. "What is…Paintball?"_

_Tony's face fell and his shoulder's sagged. He said in a weak voice, "You don't even…You never even heard…" He returned to his desk and sunk into his chair. _

"_McGee, explain," Ziva demanded, sauntering over to her teammate's desk and folding her arms. _

_McGee, who had been watching their altercation, began, "paintball is a game…" _

"_Sport." Tony cut in. _

"_Game." McGee insisted, rolling his eyes. _

"_Sport." _

"_Game." _

"_Sport." Tony stood up from his desk, his desk chair rattling in his wake. _

"_Whatever," McGee turned back to Ziva, "paintball is an _activity_ in which opposing teams attempt to shoot each other using specially designed guns. The ammo is pellets filled with paint that are fired using a system of compressed air. The object of the game is usually to capture the opposing team's flag before you are hit and forced out of the game." _

"_Thank you for that brilliant set up, Jeff Probie..." Tony commented. _

"_Oh," Ziva said, "we played something similar in Mossad." _

"_Really?" McGee blanched his eyes lost focus for a moment. She could almost see him trying to picture a band of trainee assassins taking a break from practicing torture/killing technique to get paint-splattered. _

"_Yes," she broke off his visualizing, "but we used real bullets." _

"_Yeah, that made more sense." Tony said, "And now that you've been properly instructed on the basics of the sport I know we can destroy, not kill…" he waved a finger in her face, "…just destroy the competition."_

"Hey, these guys are crazy!" Tony had found his voice, snapping her back to the present. "They're like long lost brothers separated at birth – like Schwarzenegger and DeVito! They move like _one_; they can read reach other's thoughts." His eyes took on a far-away look. "They've like two halves of the same whole…Like Abbott and Costello, Starsky and Hutch, Martin and Lewis, Lennon and McCartney, Batman and Robin…"

Ziva interrupted, "Yes, yes, I get the point!"

"My point is - " Ziva rolled her eyes, "I always got stuck paired with someone totally useless for a teammate…there was never any chance…"

"I see," she said, but it was clear she didn't.

"But now," his eyes lit up, "I can royally kick their asses, because I have you!" He put his hands on her upper arms and starred into her eyes with a delirious intensity.

Ziva frowned and looked down on the hands holding her. She looked back at his face and said slowly, "You think we are like two halves?"

He dropped her arms and stammered, "Umm…well…we're, like, a good team. We are really good at, er, reading each other's movements because we've been together so long… I mean…We're, you know, partners…"

"I see," she said, and it was clear she did.

* * *

After they were fully geared up and Tony and given Ziva some quick last minute tips, they met their opponents on the outskirts of one of the paintball courses.

The range was about the size of a basketball court and the terrain was mostly grass beaten down in various degrees. The range was dotted with inflated barriers of assorted shapes and sizes made out of a tarp-like material. The entire course was splattered by neon paint giving it a destructive and vandalized look and a sign nailed to a wooden post dubbed it "#3".

The area was marked off by a five foot fence for most of it's perimeter except for a handful of entrances and a small area on one side which was shielded by a large net strung up by wooden poles that offered a protected viewing area. The foursome seated themselves on back-less wooden benches behind the net to watch the group that was currently occupying the range.

Tony and his friends chatted about their week while Ziva forwent her manners, ignoring their conversation, and watched the game intently. Her observed her alert brown eyes jumping from player to player as she watched them move from barrier to barrier firing their weapons.

Matty rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and checked his watch and informed them it was almost time to start.

Weasel nodded towards the course. "What do you think, _Ziva_?" he asked, drawing out her name with a smile on his face like he'd just learned a new three-dollar word he enjoyed rolling off his tongue. Tony felt a small wave of disdain for his friend. Save it for the game, he told himself.

Tony could see Ziva's calm exterior flicker for a second, but then if was gone and she was back to playing her innocent character. She furrowed her brow and said, "I don't know, I have never played this game before. I'm not sure how to hold this" She held the gun awkwardly with her fingers, closely examining the barrel containing the brightly colored balls.

"Don't worry, babe," Matty said with a grin as Tony placed Ziva's hands into the correct position on the paintball gun, "We'll go easy on you."

"We were going to go easy on you, anyway," Weasel said, "seeing that you got DiNozzo here as a partner."

"Oh, but my Tony is such an amazing athlete, I feel very confident," Ziva said and leaned against Tony, grinning up at him.

Half of Tony wanted to flee due to the level of weird going way, way up; the other half wanted to enjoy witnessing Ziva raising that weird level. The latter won out and Tony put his arm around her. They really needed to go undercover again.

"We are going to hit your ass." Ziva finished. Matty and Weasel exchanged looks.

"Kick, sweetcheeks, _kick_ their ass." He looked down at Ziva. He saw his ninja, his unbalanced, frightening, trained killer. His friends saw the latest girl on his arm, that may or may not be all there.

"Well, okay, almost our turn." Matty announced and put his mask on. Tony followed suit. Ziva took the opportunity to move away from Tony.

"I think my goggles are to big," Ziva declared as she struggled to get them to rest comfortably over her mask.

"Go back and get the guy to exchange them," Tony said.

Ziva took off her goggles and her mask, the latter of which she tucked under her arm. She blew her bangs out from where they'd fallen into her eyes and shoved her paintball gun into Tony's chest.

"Hold my gun," she ordered before turning to make her way back up the small incline that would take her back to the rental shop.

Tony watched her go, goggles and mask in hand. Once she was out of earshot he turned back to his friends, who now both wore matching smug expressions through their masks.

"This is the best you could come up with after we destroyed you last week?" Matty deadpanned.

"No offence man," Weasel said, "this is going to be a massacre."

"Guys, she wanted to do something this weekend!" Tony lied. "What was I suppose to do?"

"Anything," Matty said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "_Anything_."

"Dude, this is war." Weasel said, sweat dripping into the grease paint he's unnecessarily decorated his face with. "It's no place for women."

Weasel was a floundering accountant in real life and these weekends were the one time he could express his primal warrior instincts. He took paintball_ very seriously_ which seemed to equate it in his mind to an all-male sport. Tony, however; held no qualms about it being co-ed.

"Especially one as fine as that," Matty pointed out. He then added with a shrug, "I mean, we're just going to make her…cry or something, I don't know, it's gonna be awkward…"

"But don't think we're going easy on you guys, DiNozzo."

"Definitely not."

"Good," Ziva had returned. They all turned to face her and she smiled and chirped, "I want to have the authentic American Paintball experience!"

Okay then.

Matty and Weasel snapped on their goggles over their masks. Tony and Ziva followed suit.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Matty began.

"You'll get it." Weasel finished.

Without further trash talk, the two men turned and jogged off to their side of the range. Tony guided Ziva over to their base; a large inflatable with a red flag proudly attached on the front side. They positioned themselves behind it.

"Okay, so when the whistle blows, start shooting," Tony instructed, "you take up defense, I'm offence."

"Why can I not be the offence? I am the assassin."

"Well, it's your first time assassinating someone with green paint, so you'll have to settle for following my lead. You can be the offence next time."

"Next time?"

"Next round. There's three rounds, best two out of three wins."

Ziva and Tony peaked around the side of their base, a man stood on the sidelines with a horn in one hand, his finger poised on the button.

"Almost time," Tony said as they ducked back behind the base. "Now remember, just like we practiced."

* * *

Ziva's body tensed in anticipation, she crouched, gun held in both hands, ready to spring. She felt Tony get into position beside her.

The blast of the horn erupted through the course and the two agents burst out from behind the inflatable that served as a base at the same time their opponents rushed out from behind theirs. All four made their way as quickly as possible to another barrier closer to the center of the range, shooting as they went. Ziva positioned herself beside a square-shaped barrier that wasn't to far from their base. She was pretty sure that of all the things and people she had used her skill to protect, a faded red flag was by far the most pathetic.

It was all over in a few minutes. Tony had essentially cornered himself between to barriers that looked suspiciously like a giant Twinkies, unable to escape from between them without running into the open. He had eventually tried to make a break for it from his trap, but even a virtual novice could of hit the easy target he made. Ziva had tried to cover him, but with both of their adversary's fire directed a Tony he was hit and lost his footing in his haste, and tumbled to the ground.

"Tony!" Ziva had shrieked and then felt ashamed almost immediately afterward. Luckily, the popping sounds of the guns had drowned out her cry.

Her partner was out, and it was down to just her. Two to one. Ziva had split her fire between her opponents' two positions and, to her growing frustration, she was unable to hit either of them. They had then started to advance on Ziva, now having the advantage after Tony's elimination.

Ziva was good, but she had been out numbered and a novice to the game. Her reflexes were superior, and her long-distance aiming had been getting better when it came to the new weapon, but she hadn't gotten as good at loading and reloading and it slowed her down and gave her opponents open windows to advance. It was only a matter of time until the inevitable. The unbalance of both shooters to contend with, and the distraction Tony still immobile on the ground gave the closer opponent a chance at their flag, which he took.

A sound of a horn blast came from somewhere halting their game. They had lost.

Ziva stood up and ripped off her mask and goggles, sucking in an angry breath of fresh air. Face protection in one hand, gun in the other, she made her way over to where Tony lay. Using one of her boots, she rolled him over as a hunter would roll over a wounded animal for inspection.

Tony groaned and mumbled something unintelligible that sound suspiciously like a string of curse words.

Ziva knelt down beside him, placing her equipment on the ground. At present, to anyone watching, she must have looked like a concerned partner checking on a fallen comrade. She not so gently, but efficiently, removed his goggles. Tony blinked in the sunlight and groaned again.

She placed both of her hands on his chest and leaned in her close to his face. Tony struggled to maintain eye contact.

"You would never survive in war," Ziva growled. "In war people like _you_ get people like _me_ killed."

"This isn't…" Tony mumbled, then he smiled and said more soberly, "you know, you're cute when you're mad."

"_You_ _know _that I am only withholding injuring you until we beat them." She looked over to where their competition was dancing in victory with their flag in hand. She shucked off her gloves and flexed her fingers and added,

"This is war."

* * *

A/N: Ziva is not a happy assassin. I have never been to a paintball range so a lot of this stuff I just made up to fit my story. I hope I wasn't way of the mark. Let me know what you think! Oh and a question for you, I'm thinking of making the final chapter a slight bit more fluffy/romantic than originally intended, what do you want? More Fluff or more business?


	3. Paint the Town Green

**Paint the Town Green (3/3)**

A/N: Here it is, my dears, the final part! Hope you enjoy. And I apologies if there's still some spelling and grammar mistakes still lurking, I blame the Canadianess, for some reason we like to stick random "U"s into words and such. And also to note: do not try this at home, the paintball with assassin thing. I know after reading this you might want to take your special paperclip-wielding someone out into the backyard and beat them into submission with Nerf products as a sign of love… but what is that saying? _You'll shoot your eye out…_ Oh, and no offence to all the lovely florists out there, I sure you're great with projectiles. You'll see…

* * *

"I don't know why I ever agreed to this," Ziva muttered angrily as she forcefully hoisted Tony to his feet. Tony groaned and rolled his head back and forth releasing several kinks then reached down and picked up his paintball gun from where it had fallen. He looked at Ziva and she glared back. In one hand she clutched their flag, which Matty had tossed to her with a smug smile.

"Because it's a fair trade," Tony explained as they began walking back to their base. "I take the heat from Boss for the totaled car and you help me kill at paintball today." Though, that wasn't going very well, he thought, but didn't dare voice aloud.

"My specialty _is_ assassination, but I was not informed that anyone would actually be _killed_ today, " she said, sarcasm mixed with her angry tone. "It's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"It's a figure of speech. And anyway, what's the big deal? You get to shoot things."

"Has it ever occurred to you," she stopped suddenly and turned around and Tony almost walked right into her, "that I might like to spend my day off doing something other than _shooting things_."

"No," he deadpanned. "No it hasn't."

Not surprisingly, his words did nothing to quell her glare and she turned around to continue the walk back to their end of the field.

"Oooo! Wait! Wait!" Tony dashed after her, she was walking so fast he had to jog to keep up. "Okay, you win. Next weekend we'll hit up a quilting bee, I know you'll love it, and then this great root vegetable convention I heard about in Georgetown. Oh! And I know this great little place my ex-girlfriend told me about where you can make and decorate your own pottery and-"

"Oh, yes, just try and keep me away," She said in a musical voice, then continued with an obviously false excitement, "we could double date with McGee and his new girlfriend!"

They had arrived back at their base. With more force than necessary, Ziva slapped their flag back onto place where it was affixed to the tarp inflatable by Velcro. She rounded the dome-like structure and leaned against the back of it, her arms folded. Tony stood in front of her.

If he didn't know any better, Tony would have thought she was sulking. He had processed that she was extremely pissed at being beaten at a game of this nature by the likes of Matty and Weasel.

"Don't worry," Ziva said, "I get it. This is a business transaction."

A hint of disappointment?

"Don't worry, Zee-vah, next time you need me to get you out of a tight situation," he stepped closer to her, "I shall ask for payment in the form of some of you _other _skills." He leered down at her and the part of his brain that normally told him not to enter the personal space of a currently very miffed assassin seemed to have taken a vacation from his cranium.

"And I," Ziva said softly as she seemed to be able to move herself even closer to his body without actually touching, "shall give retribution in the form of my shoe in your ass."

And, as a preview, she kicked him in the shins.

"Yow!" Tony cried, collapsing onto the grass in a heap and clutched his battered shin. He yelled, "it's not _shoe_ in ass, it's foot or boot!"

"It's boot, and be glad I didn't wear the steal-toed ones."

"I thought you said you were going to hold off on injuring me until we won!"

"Stop being such a baby."

"We need me to have two good legs to win!"

"Well, maybe you should have thought about that before getting in my face, yes?"

"Okay, just listen," Tony said slowly as he gingerly got to his feet. He saw out of the corner of his eye that the referee was getting into position. "The second round is about to start. Let's just cool it until we've kicked some ass."

"Fine by me," she growled and pulled her mask on.

Tony turned away, put on his goggles and looked around the edge of the base, Matty and Weasel were hidden out of sight. He turned back and looked over at Ziva who was now in position. She was focused and poised at the ready. Tony's mind, however, was now whirling through their previous conversation, replaying the events that had led to his injury and Ziva feeling more like kicking _his_ ass rather than the other team's.

"Wait…back there you said double date…as in _date_…What did…"

He was interrupted by the blast of the horn signaling the start of the second round.

Tony ran and positioned himself behind a large square barrier. He'd just made it in the nick of time, too, Ziva's kick had given him a slight limp. He was grateful for the shin pads he put on earlier as part of his armor, or else he might not be able to walk at all.

Ignoring the pain, he began firing at what was either Matty or Weasel who was down the field and to the right of his position using for cover a wooden wall with war zone-esque empty windows to use as firing slots. He fired round after round, barely breaking up his stream of fire to swiftly reload as he and his opponent neared closer to each other. His eyes darted between his target and Ziva, who had pinned their other opponent behind a short Twinkie-like barrier.

The second round was going a lot better than the first and Tony was determined not to make the same idiotic mistake he had last time. He was in the zone. The popping of the guns and the rustling vinyl of the barriers faded into white noise as his entire mind and body was focused on a single task. He felt no pain, even the shin Ziva has taken her frustration out on was numb as his body ran on pure adrenaline. He was Bond on the cliffs of Gibraltar.

Ziva was, as always, a unique combination of Bond girl and your typical kick-ass action chick. Or, maybe, Sarah Jessica Parker in _Failure to Launch_? He smiled to himself, imagining Ziva screaming everytime a paintball came within a foot of her. Although, Paula did prevail in the end and he had faith that Ziva would bring it home, as well.

The girl in question, he noted, as he continued to exchange shots with what looked like Weasel, was luring their other opponent closer down the field while she maintained her position. And then he realized her plan.

To his right, Ziva and Matty exchanged fire. Ziva was about a dozen feet behind him and presumably behind a large cone barrier, the only thing giving away her position was a constant stream of green paintballs. Matty had left the wall and was moving closer using a cluster of barrel shaped barriers. In order to advance farther he would have to move from them to a large cube. He would have to come into the open. But not for Ziva, for him.

He continued firing at Weasel, who had not changed his position and seemed to have decided that this was now a game of chicken between him and Tony, or perhaps he thought he was just distracting the obviously stronger member of the team to give Matty a chance. Beneath his mask Tony's eyes darted back and forth between his two opponents. Matty had reached the last barrel and was about to make his move, Tony could feel it.

There it was a flash of black against the multicolor pallet of the field, Tony caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and swung his weapon in an arc. Green paint exploded up his friend's right side.

_Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker._

Before Tony even heard his yelp of surprise, he was already back to shooting at Weasel.

"I'm out!" he heard Matty announce, his hand held high in the air.

Tony continued to exchange fire with Weasel, both refusing to give up their position. Tony groaned in frustration, he was getting nowhere. And with Matty eliminated they were so close.

"Ziva," he muttered to himself, "where are you?"

"Right here."

He felt the barrier sage a little to his left and looked to see Ziva crouched beside him. He cursed.

"Haven't I told you not to sneak up on me like that?" He hissed at her over the popping sound of his gun.

"I thought sneakiness was preferable in this situation."

"Good point," Tony conceded, announcing herself was definitely not the best option. "Okay, spy girl, we're going to try something sneaky then, you up for it?"

"Always."

"Then on the count of three you're going to take over for me and pin this guy down. Got it?"

"Yes, I think I can handle the complexities of counting."

"Okay, then." He rolled his eyes. "One, two, three…"

Tony ducked down and Ziva popped up, they moved in perfect sync, bearly breaking the stream of fire upon their enemy. Tony crawled behind her along the prism shaped barrier they were using as protection. Counting on Ziva to cover him, he made a dash for shelter farther down the course. He heard some of Weasel's paintballs chasing him but the element of surprise gave him the few seconds needed to make it.

Weasel was trying to split his fire between Tony and Ziva. Tony knew his friend would want to go after him as Tony himself was closer to the flag but Weasel couldn't afford to lose sight of Ziva who would no doubt use the opportunity to try and sneak up on him. This round, they had gained the advantage.

With a leap and a drive, Tony made it to the wooden wall Matty had used previously as cover and crawled using his elbows and knees towards the next means of shelter, trusting the wall to keep Weasel's paintballs at bay.

By keeping the wall between him and Weasel and lying low, Tony managed to make it closer to the opposition's end of the course. Then, with Ziva distracting Weasel, Tony ran for it and seized their flag. A horn blast filled the air and ended the round quickly followed by Matty storming onto the field to curse out his partner. Tony saw Ziva pop up from where she had been shooting and remove her goggles before starting off towards him. He walked to meet her halfway, tossing the flag in Weasel's face with a gloating smile.

"Very nice," she said evenly with a nod of approval.

"Yeah, I thought so."

When they met he greeted her in the appropriate way a guy would great his girl after a great victory.

* * *

"A high-five? Very convincing."

Ziva was not impressed when she was greeted with an incredibly ridiculously, over-enthusiastic high five. And she made her opinion clear in a stage whisper as they walked back to their base.

"Well, so-o-o-o-r-r-ry," he replied. "I didn't want to attempt anything to normal since _you_ are involved. And I was right. You almost left me hanging." She watched as Tony whipped off his mask, leaned closer and looking daringly down at her with a glint in his eye. "Come on, maybe they're still watching…"

Ziva was not in the mood to play, disappointed that a high five was as far as he was willing to commit to their charade.

Commit. Therein lies the problem word, she thought. Not that she would be telling him that anytime soon.

Tony was still looking at her waiting for her to make the next move. In her opinion, he was asking for it. Ziva swung her gun up and pointed the barrel at his nose.

"Tell me, Tony, has anyone ever been killed during a game of this paintball?" she asked in a mocking tone. "Because I am willing to try."

"_Try_ to act a little happy." He tried to lean away but her gun followed him. "It was your idea to get all snuggly with your 'amazing athlete' Tony. I'm just trying for a little continuity, here."

Ziva did not lower her gun. Maybe she shouldn't have pushed it with their little sham for his friends, all she wanted was to not be taken seriously until the game started so as to have the element of surprise. Now that he was just going to throw all of it back in her face, she'd much rather focus on winning this game and getting this all over with.

"We have not won yet," she pointed out. "I will be happy or whatever then."

"Come on, we kicked ass, I think that deserves a little smooch."

"They screwed up. He made a stupid miscalculation and we took advantage of it."

"You're just being all pessimistic because you're afraid of falling for the famous DiNozzo charm. I get it."

"I am not going to let my guard down because we just won," she pressed on, "you shouldn't either. I, for one, am not going to lose focus."

"Yeah, I see your point."

"Good."

"Best not to let you submit to 'the charm' just yet. I need you focused," he said with mock thoughtfulness. "One to one." He reminded her. "This round, winner takes it all."

She didn't respond and Tony remained silent as they reached they're base and positioned themselves behind it. She checked to make sure her gun was in order and strapped her goggles into place. As she adjusted them, she felt Tony lean in so his head was right beside hers.

"So if we win the next one, are we going to celebrate _properly_?"

"Does that include human sacrifice?"

"That's the spirit."

Ziva resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs as the horn blasted a moment later and they burst out from behind their base. Diving behind a cone-shaped barrier, she started shooting at where she had seen one of her opponents seek shelter. Out of the corner of her eye, she monitored her partner's movements. Tony did an impressive dive to a set of log-shaped barriers farther down the range. Her opponents aimed their onslaught at where he had disappeared, but no fire was returned. Ziva took the opportunity to move to a barrel-shaped barrier. Fire immediately rained down on her, but from this position she could see Tony and get more accurate shot at her opponents.

A figure darted out from behind another cone-like barrier and to another, firing at her as he went and she was forced to back up behind her barrier's curved edge as the shooter's new position gave him a better place to aim at her from. She started to return fire, this time from the other side of her barrier. This new angle now gave her the advantage on his position. Her adversary ducked out of view completely and she took the opportunity to dive behind a slightly closer barrier shaped like a giant pyramid. It was like fighting for your life while navigating through a set of children's toy blocks.

The barrier she had chosen did not give her a good shot at either of her opponents and she was now aiming practically blind, not willing to expose her head to the onslaught, (even though head shots were specifically banned, as she had been sternly told by Tony, her instincts would not let her take the risk). She stopped to swiftly reload; she was pleasantly surprised at how fast she was catching on. On the other hand, it was to be expected from one with her level of expertise in similar (and far more deadly) situations.

Carefully and skillfully, Ziva went full on the offense moving farther and farther down the course with Tony a few meters behind. Once she was in roughly the middle she came upon the first of her two opponents stretched out behind a short prism shaped barrier. She made a dive for the wooden wall before her and just barely escaped some of his orange paintballs.

Tony was now in her old position, she had felt him following her down the field. After a beat she stood straight up to full height and swung around, sticking her gun out the window size hole in the paint-splattered wall and firing down upon her target who was lying in wait gun at the ready, giving Tony the chance to run for the wall. After a few rounds, she ducked back down.

"Whew…that was close, nice shooting," She heard him say before they both made a dash for cover closer to their enemies base.

With now both her and Tony headed full steam down the course, it seemed they had abandoned the defense of their base. Not the smartest plan, maybe, but Ziva was not one to complain about a more offensive approach.

"I'll stay here!" Tony half yelled at her. "You go!"

He planted himself behind a cone-shaped barrier and began firing to where Matty and Weasel were shooting at them from. Ziva kept moving; she was now very close to capturing the flag.

Then Matty or Weasel, she couldn't tell them apart, made a move to get closer and an opportunity opened up. Ziva took it. It was really a simple left-when-you-should-have-gone-right split second mistake and it was all she needed for a clear shot to the shoulder. Weasel or Matty (whatever) went down and Ziva smiled to herself. It was just one of them left now.

The enemy that was remaining, though, had a pretty good shot at her if she moved out into the open. She was close to their base but if she made a run for it, in all likelihood, she would be hit.

Ziva turned to look back at Tony and at the same time he turned back to look at her, still firing blindly. She made a few hand signals. He nodded and held up three fingers and lowered them one by one, on the third finger he jumped out from behind the barrier. Things seemed to move in slow motion then.

A spilt second after he moved she did too, sans gun, her boots digging deep into the moist ground. After a few steps she launched herself into the air, one arm reaching forward. As she felt her hand close around the flag she propelled herself forward with her other and brought her head down. She tucked her legs up and into her chest and rolled. She came to a stop in a crouching position.

She straightened up and only managed to take off the offending goggles and mask covering her face when she was attacked by a screaming Tony and lifted into the air.

His behavior was so ridiculous and his exhilaration so contagious that she couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Tony shouted as he jumped up and down in the air. He was so excited he couldn't even feel where Matty's paintballs had hit him in the chest as he jumped in front of the fire that would have eliminated Ziva before she reached the flag. He dropped his gun and ran to Ziva who was removing her mask, the flag still clutched in her hand.

And before he could stop himself, he embraced her. As if suddenly possessed by their favorite Goth scientist, his arms wrapped around her and he lifted her clear off the ground, swinging her around in a circle. He knew nothing but pure euphoria. Ziva's arms, meanwhile, hung limp like a rag doll (or someone who didn't understand the basics of friendly physical contact).

"You can dive roll!" He yelled. "You never told me you could dive roll! That was awesome!" He whooped and shouted and cackled with joy.

Much to Tony's delight, she laughed at his antics and using the one hand he hadn't pinned down with his hug she removed his mask and goggles letting them fall to the ground.

"You know, I've been thinking," he started to ramble as his mind was suddenly whirling at top speed, "two's not really enough for this game, its over wa-a-a-ay to quickly. Gibbs was a sniper, do you think he would be interested?"

"I would like to be there when you ask," she chuckled.

"You're right. How about McGee? He'd be cannon fodder right now, but we could teach him. Palmer too. I bet Abby would be pretty good, she acts all nice and stuff but we all know she has a major kick-ass streak. I think she still actually has a paintball gun we confiscated during a case way back when. There's a doll in her lab with a stain on it and I think she used it for target practice. Do you know any - "

Ziva cut him off, "Tony."

"What?"

"Shut up."

And she did indeed shut up him up as she pressed her smiling lips to his. Tony's thoughts suddenly came to a halt - and though it was cheesy to even think about it – the whole freaking world stopped.

After a few seconds she pulled away and he watched her laugh openly at his most likely shocked expression.

"Ah, there is that DiNozzo charm you mentioned, yes?" she said, mocking his frozen expression. She leaned in again. "You can put me down now."

"Oh, right, sorry." He felt his arms automatically slacken and Ziva dropped back to earth. He felt funny, like his muscles had suddenly decided to convert to Jell-O.

Tony looked around but didn't take in much. "We gotta get off the course…we're probably been on to long…"

"Okay then." He heard her say beside him, he could hear the smile in her voice.

"So," he turned to her and screwed his face into his most confident grin, "we're pretty good, huh? That…that was a great finishing touch. Very _convincing._" He echoed her words from before.

"I thought so," she said then paused. "Well, you need work. Next time, try to, um…respond."

Tony blanched. Was she offering constrictive criticism or something? Who did she think she was, anyway?

"Oh, I can respond!"

Ziva rolled her eyes. They were off the field now, back in the observation area behind the netting. She began to remove her gear piece by piece and setting it on a bench until she was back to her jeans and T-shirt. Tony did the same, trying to defend himself at the same time.

"You just give me a chance and I'll show you some _responding_. Just don't sneak up on me like that! I was expecting you to use some crazy-ninja-pressure-point trick, not make a move on me!"

"I apologize, Tony," she said in a condescending tone. "It will not happen again. Here," she started loading her arms up with their rented gear, "I'll take this back and give you a moment to collect yourself."

With a superior smile she turned and left. Tony growled in frustration and watched her go with a scowl.

He needed to walk off some anger so he decided to head back to the parking lot, she'd find him eventually.

Tony wasn't angry with _her_, per se. He hadn't been _really_ angry with her in a while; he was use to her picking at him and he at her. But why'd she have to go and kiss him? Okay, it wasn't such a bad idea in theory. In fact, ten minutes ago a kiss seemed like a very good idea. But why did she just have to spring one on him? He was usually quick to respond in these types of situations but he never thought in a million years that she'd follow through on his "smooch" proposition.

Tony was angry with himself. He'd blown it. That could have been a good kiss. How many times had be found himself at work flashing back to their time undercover? More than he'd like to admit. God, had it really been three years? And a chance to experiment with their freaky and unconventional yet incredibly complicated and hot relationship and he'd stood there immobile like an idiot. He'd let her get the better of him.

She thought she was such hot stuff.

_Pssh._

"Dude, where did you find her?" Came a voice, its owner in obvious awe.

Apparently someone agreed.

He'd reached the parking lot and Tony turned to see Matty and Weasel walking towards him.

"Did you meet her at work?" asked Matty. "You know, she another agent or something?

"Criminal?" Weasel inquired with an eager grin. His friends are creepy. Was he this creepy?

_Yes. _

"Ziva?" he paused. The reasons he had been so excited to win returned and glee flowed back into his body again. A grin spread across his face. "No, she runs a small floral shop and breeds Shih Tzus on the side. Very nurturing personality."

"You're kidding me, right?" scoffed Weasel.

"Wouldn't dream of it. I had no idea she had it in her."

"She's something, though," observed Weasel almost whimsically.

"Yeah," agreed Matty, "smoking hot _and _kick ass at paintball? Dude, I don't think I've said this to you before, but, you might want to hold on to that one."

"Oh, I plan to," Tony mused aloud.

"Hello, boys."

Tony jumped and spun around as Ziva snuck up on him for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She was smiling at his reaction. _Oh you like that do you, ninja? _He thought_. Just wait till I can sneak up on you…_

"I hope my Tony here is not giving you too hard of a time," she said, linking her arm with his.

"Of course not, dear."

They smiled matching were-so-happy couple smiles. Matty and Weasel were regarding Ziva with a mixer of disbelief and amazement. They're eyes then flicked to each other before returning back to her. Weasel was the first to speak.

"Listen, ah, good game."

He extended his had and Ziva took it, smiling. Weasel grinned too, still looking slightly stunned at being in her presence.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Sweetheart," Matty said and shook her hand in turn.

"Neither did I," she replied evenly.

"And, hey, Ziva?" Weasel said as she released Matty's hand. "If you ever get tired of DiNozzo-"

"Hey!" Tony cried in protest, once again questioning his choice in Weasel as a friend.

"Weez, there's no way," said Matty simply.

"Yeah, but you got me out," he said to Ziva, fingering his shirt which was splattered with her green paint. "It was kind of awesome."

"Dude," Matty said, "you have a girlfriend."

"Oh, yeah."

Ziva threw Tony a disapproving look but he could only laugh, he pitied his friend. Ziva was the kind of girl that made you forget about everything and everybody else, even if she had just kicked your ass.

"And besides," Ziva said, "I have a…Tony."

"Come on," said Matty said before his friend could reply, clapping him on the back. "I'm going to go get you hammered. You guys are welcome to come along…"

"No thanks, were going to just…take off," he said, lamely, waving in the general direction of their parked cars. If he was going to get hopelessly smashed with anyone at four o'clock in the afternoon it was going to be Ziva, and preferably without Matty and especially Weasel around. Not that that was his plan exactly…

After making pleasant good-byes, Matty and Weasel departed in their truck leaving Tony alone with Ziva. Trying to harness the positive vibes in his body that were leftover from the victory, Tony braced himself. Now or never.

"Well, I better get going," Ziva said coolly, unlinking their arms.

_My lady, your lips say no but you tone says 'it was fun while it lasted'. _

"Hey, Z? Wait, you wanna, I don't know…meet me at my place for a drink…or something?"

Tony hoped the fear was not showing in his eyes, maybe he was still shaky from all the times she had snuck up on him today? He had to admit to himself, that was not the suavest delivery. Where was the Italian stallion when you needed him?

Ziva looked at him quizzically for a moment then nodded. She turned and continued on towards where her red mini cooper was parked. Tony watched her go, smiling. It wasn't very enthusiastic, but an answer in the affirmative was what he was hoping for.

And things looked they were going to go well that evening, that is until he received a call from Gibbs just as they'd settled in at his apartment.

"Yeah, Gibbs, I'm out in Baltimore for the weekend…" He could almost hear the glare before he continued, "But of course, we… I mean…I…_I_ can make it in about an hour…"

He trailed off to enjoy the view of Ziva digging around in his overflowing fridge. She straightened and turned, examining two beers to see if they were satisfactory.

"On second thought, with the traffic this time of day, better make that two." He said with a confident smile and snapped his phone shut, not giving his Boss a chance to reply. He jumped off the couch and dashed over to the selves (that occupied one entire wall of his living room) on which he displayed his collection of DVDs. Now, what would she like…? Something not to long, though, they were on a tighter schedule than Tony would have liked and he wanted to leave the maximum amount of time for other _activities_…

While riffling through his DVDs, Tony was ripped from his planning by the sharp feeling of a hand coming in contact with the back of his head.

"Boss?" he gasped in disbelief. How did he know? Wait, it couldn't be…

He turned to find Ziva behind him with an unamused look on her face, holding her cell phone in one hand. He could here Gibbs' voice emulating from it.

"You two get both your asses here this minute or you'll be looking for _work_ in Baltimore! And, David, we don't need a repeat of last time, so you better let DiNozzo drive!"

The call disconnected and Ziva flipped her cell shut.

"He knew?" Tony gasped. "He knew all along that I took the rap for you!"

"What rap?"

"He knows I covered for you with the car!"

"Oh, yes. It appears so," She sighed as she returned the phone to her pocket. She walked back to Tony's kitchen to put away the drinks, they're victory celebration would have to wait.

Tony grumbled and made no attempt to hide his disappointment as he shuffled to his bedroom to change into more work appropriate and less smelly clothes. He had only gotten as far as to remove his shirt when Ziva appeared in his doorway. He watched her eyes flick down to inspect his naked chest before returning to his eyes. She looked almost nervous.

"Before we go," she said, "I just wanted to ask you if, back there with you friends when I interrupted you, were you talking about me?"

"…_You might want to hold on to that one."_

"_Oh, I plan to…"_

"Nope," he said coolly as he pulled open a drawer to hunt for a clean shirt, "about my florist girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?"

She straitened and folded her arms. Uh-oh, just when he thought he had gotten rid of the angry Ziva…

"Well, no, you see… not really."

She gave him what must have been the hundredth death-glare of the day and turned around abruptly. "Whatever, Tony," she called as she and headed for the front door.

"No wait!" Tony dropped the pile of crumpled shirts in his arms and ran after her. He had just been messing with her and now he'd royally pissed her off again. He had to explain himself or his big mouth would ruin what had been an otherwise pretty good day. "You don't get it!"

Ziva had her hand on the doorknob as she looked over her shoulder and said, "No, _you _don't get it."

"You're my florist girlfriend!" He blurted.

There was a pause as she looked at him in confusion before asking, "Did you hit your head when we were playing? Wait, how hard did I hit you?"

"No," obviously. "What I mean is, I told them you were a florist."

"Why would you do that?" She asked, her eyes narrowed even further in suspicion.

"Hey, you started it with the whole _I want the authentic American Paintball experience _act!" he said in a high-pitched voice, mocking her accent on the side. "Oh, and your sudden inability to hold a gun properly like you haven't known how to hold a gun since you were nine!"

"Seven."

"Exactly. And if those guys knew that…Well, call me cruel but I wanted those guys to know what it's like to lose at this – no matter how stupid _you_ might think it is. And telling them you're an assassin…"

"They could rationalize away the humiliation of losing to a girl if said _girl _had…"

"…Had guns in her hands since she was seven." Tony finished.

"Now that you explain it, I guess I am glad that you lied."

"Why?" It was his turn to be a bit suspicious.

Ziva opened the door and stepped through it. She said over her shoulder, "So we can continue to properly humiliate them again the next weekend."

She grinned as she closed the door behind her. Tony was sure that he had to have heard her wrong…

"Next weekend?"

The end.

* * *

A/N: and…scene! That's all folks, hope it was a satisfying ending, let me know? I thought it was the most risky of the three but I just followed my gut, lol. Thank you for all the reviews! I'm such a review whore it was so nice to come home and see them all in my inbox! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Next, I'm hoping to do something a bit longer and have the other characters along with Tony and Ziva but I want to get it all written out first, so it may be a while! I'm thinking case file meets Medieval Fair? Hmmm….? We'll see. Anyway, catch ya later!


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